


she looked out the window, he walked out the door

by albion



Series: eruri week [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Eruri Week, Europe, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Neighbors, a love affair across a balcony across the street, erwin has confusing love feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albion/pseuds/albion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>eruri week</b> | <i>day three</i> : “home”<br/>also originally posted <a href="http://hattushash.tumblr.com/post/70952066646/she-looked-out-the-window-he-walked-out-the-door">here</a> on tumblr</p><p> </p><p>A busy street in Rome, two apartments, and an almost love affair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she looked out the window, he walked out the door

**Author's Note:**

> this is my apology for the angst-fest that was yesterday's prompt. this is all happy. nothing bad happens in this one at all.

He finalizes the move in December 2012 and moves in during the spring of 2013 with surprisingly little difficulty, considering he knows only basic Italian and a brief layout of Rome.

The apartment he’s bought for himself is every inch what he’s always dreamt of. Bustling crowds in the streets below, a little balcony with spindly metal railings outside the shuttered windows, sleek and modern furnishings in the living room, bedroom and bathroom, with several rustic touches in the kitchen.

He’s grateful that he is one of the lucky few who chose to pursue writing as a career and actually manages to earn money from his passion.

Two days after his move from Bristol to Rome, Erwin sits down at a little table he’s dragged onto the balcony with his laptop. He opens up Microsoft Word, takes a sip from his espresso, and waits for inspiration.

An email arrives in his inbox from Nile just as he’s flicking through the current weather report.

_How is Rome? Enjoying the Italian dream much better than cold, damp England?_  
_Don’t forget you have deadlines. Italy’s great and all, but if you can’t produce anything good there I’m coming over and dragging your arse back home myself._  
_\- Nile_

Erwin smiles, despite himself. He and Nile don’t always get along, but he’s as good as an editor as anyone could hope for and… well. Sometimes a slightly unfriendly personal relationship makes for a better professional one.

He finishes off his coffee, and leans back in his chair. Then he’s aware of shouting coming across the street from the apartment directly opposite his.

Erwin looks over, curious. There’s a boy with black hair standing in his apartment, visible from the open balcony doors, shouting at a woman who’s barely taller than he is. As Erwin watches, the boy slams the shutters behind him and stalks onto the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He breathes out several lungs full of smoke, staring up at the brilliant blue sky, before he looks over and Erwin and his eyes meet.

The street is significantly narrow enough that they’re much closer than neighbours probably should be, and Erwin can see now that the figure is probably not a boy at all, but just an unusually short man. Erwin raises one hand and waves a hello.

The man looks at him for a second, before turning abruptly on his heel and walking back into his apartment.

 

.

 

It’s a week later before Erwin sees his neighbour again. He’s working on a collection of short stories and as he writes, he hears the sound of the man in his apartment, who appears to be cooking. He’s visible from the large windows, the venetian blinds pulled up almost to the top, and Erwin half wonders if everyone in Italy is this relaxed with their privacy or if people back in England are just unusually private.

Erwin watches in curiosity as the man prepares an enormous bowl of bruschetta, slicing tomatoes and onions with great efficiency, then reaches into his oven to pull out what appears to be bread.

As soon as he opens the oven however, the apartment fills with dark grey smoke and Erwin’s eyes widen in alarm as he makes out the silhouette of his neighbour angrily dropping the burnt bread onto the stove top, before practically launching himself out of the balcony doors again, crouching down to breath in heavily the fresh air.

Once Erwin’s sure that he’s going to be fine, he opens up a notepad document he’s been on and off adding to for the past few days.

 

> _Current impressions of life in Rome:_
> 
> \- _Don’t get cheated on the price of olives and tomatoes in that supermarket down the road. Remember pound to euro conversion is _€_ 1.19 for every £1.  
>  _\- _Gelato is wonderful but not for your waistline  
>  _ \- _The market has better bread than the grocery stores. Make sure to get there before 7 each morning._

 

Below the list, he writes another note.

 

> \- _My neighbour across the street doesn’t appear to be able to cook that well. Invite him over for dinner one day maybe?? You could make a friend._

Erwin smiles, and clicks save.

 

.

 

He gets a call from Mike a short while later.

“Hey Erwin! How’s it going in Rome? Enjoying yourself?”

Erwin juggles the freshly baked pizza in one hand and the phone in the other. “It’s beautiful here. I think you’d like it. Lots of inspiration too; I’ve got a few stories done for my collection already.”

“That’s great man, I’m really happy for you! Hey, met any cute Italian chicks yet?” Mike’s tone is playfully teasing. He knows Erwin’s preference for men over women.

Erwin laughs down the line. “Mike. I’ve been here for about a week. I’m not that great of a lady-killer. Or… man-killer, I suppose.”

“'Man-killer' sounds mildly horrifying,” Mike replies. “Well, at any rate, I should be off. Hanji and Nanaba are planning a party tonight, and I’ve got to go and pick up Nile.”

“Nile agreed to go to a party with you lot?”

Mike chuckles. “Well there may have been some… friendly persuasion involved.”

“Just take it easy on the poor man,” Erwin says. “He is my editor. I need him in one piece.”

“Roger that Erwin. Have a great evening!”

“Bye Mike.”

 

.

 

Erwin sits down at his balcony in the warmth of a summer’s evening with his homemade pizza and a glass of red wine. If he was going to do the stereotypical British thing and escape to the Mediterranean, he might as well do it properly.

Then he hears the sound of someone talking, and looks over at the only person he knows it could be.

His neighbour is standing on his own balcony, talking rapidly into a cordless phone. Erwin’s knowledge of Italian is slowly increasing day by day, but he’s speaking far too quickly for him to understand what he’s saying.

The man shouts something that Erwin guesses is probably an obscenity, then hangs up angrily. He looks up, and notices Erwin staring.

“Cosa vuoi?” he says.

Erwin swallows a mouthful of pizza. “Um,” he begins. “I don’t actually speak very good Italian. Uh, non… parlo italiano.”

“You’re English?” the man asks suddenly.

Erwin is surprised. “Yes,” he calls back. “Moved here not long ago from Bristol. You know Bristol?”

“Not really,” the other man says. His eyes are narrowed and Erwin can see the dark shadows underneath them. “Don’t really care either. You lot all come here from your rainy island and then you move here because you want a taste of the ‘continental life’, not even trying to learn the language or anything. Ugh.”

He turns on his heel and walks back into his house, shutting the doors.

Erwin feels a bit small.

 

.

 

> _~~\- My neighbour across the street doesn’t appear to be able to cook that well. Invite him over for dinner one day maybe?? You could make a friend.~~ _
> 
> _Apparently not. I don’t think he likes me. Or brits in general._

.

 

It’s a hot Thursday afternoon when Erwin finally finishes the first draft of his collection and sends it off to Nile, who no doubt will be greatly relieved to see it.

He leans back on his balcony chair, which has now become his writing area, and decides that a trip down to Ostia or perhaps Naples would be a lot of fun. Maybe he could climb Vesuvius, or join the greats of the 19th century and go on a day trip to Capri.

He’s startled out of his musings by the sound of banging and looks over to see his neighbour, half clothed (and not in the acceptable way), pushed up against one of his windows, hands up above his head and scrambling for something to hold on to. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed.

Erwin watches incredulously as another man comes into view, completely naked, gripping his neighbour’s hips, and then when Erwin realises what’s happening he blushes crimson and abruptly turns to walk back inside.

The image doesn’t leave his brain for a long time, and as Erwin lays in bed that night, completely awake, he curses.

 

.

 

The next morning, he finds a large piece of cardboard and writes a message down on it. Then he tapes it to his balcony railing, and leaves for the market.

_I know you can understand English so don’t ignore this message. Please don’t have sex with your blinds up because I can see it. I don’t want to see it._

 

He comes back from the market to see a message taped to the balcony across the street.

_tough luck._

 

Erwin swears and pulls off his cardboard sign, flipping it over and scrambling to find a thick enough pen.

_You are completely unfair. Besides, I don’t even know your name._

 

He’s in the middle of taping it back to the railing when he hears laughter, and looks up to see his neighbour, dressed in a white work shirt and black pants, smoking a cigarette.

The man gestures toward Erwin’s new sign. “Really?”

Erwin huffs. “What do you expect? You don’t appear to like me so we might as well just leave each other passive-aggressive signs instead.”

The other man muses for a while, before abruptly, “Levi.”

“What?”

“Name. My name is Levi.”

“Oh. I’m Erwin. Erwin Smith.”

“Smith,” Levi laughs. “Very British.”

Erwin can only shrug. Then Levi gestures downwards with his cigarette. “Want to come over?”

Erwin frowns. “Why?”

“I was… unfair,” Levi says, putting the cigarette up to his lips again. “I want to apologize.”

“Oh,” Erwin says. “Well…”

He thinks about the piles of laundry he was going to do.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

 

.

 

Levi meets him downstairs at the main entrance, and leads him up the rickety spiral staircase to his rooms. Compared to Erwin’s apartment building, this one is obviously much older, with patchy areas where the paint has flaked off and has been re-plastered.

Levi stops outside his door and notices Erwin staring. “This building’s from the war. The Nazis did a little number on it. There are a couple of old bullet holes in the wall upstairs if you want to see.”

“Ah, no. That’s fine.”

Levi makes a noise and pulls out his keys, sliding one into the lock and pushing the dark red painted door open.

Levi’s apartment, now that Erwin can see it properly, is a little smaller than his own and has much older furnishings. But it’s immaculately clean, with a tiled kitchen area and a living room with comfortable old dark green couches. There’s a small television and a black coffee table, and a few landscape paintings on the walls. What Erwin notices first, however, is the large crucifix hanging above the television.

He gestures with his head towards it. “Religious?”

“Not really,” Levi says, as he walks over to the kitchen area. He opens up a cupboard (and Erwin notices how he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach it) and pulls out a tin. “My mother is Catholic and my father was Jewish, so that always worked out exceedingly well. Mostly I just have it there to keep her happy whenever she comes over. Tea? Coffee? I hope you like dark roast.”

Erwin stops inspecting one of the paintings and looks over. “Oh uh… water would be fine, thanks.”

Levi puts one hand on his hip. “Water? Come on, don’t be so boring.”

“Fine then… coffee.”

Levi makes a contented noise in response and pulls the coffee machine that’s sitting on the counter closer to him.

Erwin sits down on one of the couches and looks around the room, sinking into the worn cushions with a sigh. “So what do you do, Levi?”

“I’m a porn star.”

Erwin sits straight back up again. Levi gives him an once-over and bursts out laughing. “Relax, no I’m not. Not that you should look down on me even if I was. I work as a tour guide, actually.”

“So that explains your dislike of touristy British types then.”

Levi spoons out several heaps of coffee grounds into the maker. “Yeah. I have nothing against tourists, but when you have to deal with loud dumbass idiots who complain about ‘no one here speaks English!’ or, ‘where can I get –insert British food here–?’ on a regular basis, you develop a particular dislike for them. Also the kids. The kids are the worst.”

“I can imagine,” Erwin muses.

Levi snaps the lid of the coffee machine shut and presses the button. “And you?”

“Me? I’m a writer.”

“How romantic.”

“It kind of is, if you think about it. My mother wasn’t pleased when I made the decision. She wanted me to take over the family company.”

“So you’re a rich English bastard then.”

“Unfortunately yes.”

Levi walks over to the couches and flops down on the one opposite Erwin, crossing his legs. “Sorry for the eyeful you got.”

Erwin feels himself blushing slightly. “No, no, that’s alright. I just… wasn’t expecting it I suppose.” He avoids making eye contact with Levi as he says it, and instead stares at the television. There’s a couple of DVDs neatly lined up underneath, and Erwin recognizes them as Disney movies.

“I didn’t think you’d be one for Disney.”

Levi looks over to the television. “I’m a surprising man, I guess. Most of them are the Italian language versions though, so sorry if you wanted to watch one.”

Erwin laughs. “Oh no, that’s fine.”

They hear the sound of the machine beeping, and Levi goes over to pour the coffee into two mugs. He asks if Erwin takes cream, milk or sugar, to which Erwin replies that he does not, and then Levi deposits his mug on the coffee table in front of him. Levi takes his own coffee with a splash of milk but no sugar.

Erwin takes a sip. It’s hot and strong and very bitter.

“I do have one English language movie though,” Levi says suddenly, “if you’re interested. I wouldn’t want to take away from your time though, if you need to get home.”

Erwin considers. He doesn’t have a whole lot to do today, and he’s suddenly very interested in getting to know Levi more.

“I’d love to,” he smiles, taking another sip of coffee. “Which one is it?”

Levi puts his mug down. “Don’t laugh, because it’s really hilariously ironic.”

“Oh?”

Levi leans forward and pulls out the DVD, and Erwin gets a glorious view of his ass, perfectly shaped by the tight pants he’s wearing.

He swallows.

Levi holds out the DVD for him to take. And then Erwin starts laughing.

_Roman Holiday._

“Really?” Erwin asks.

Levi almost looks like he’s blushing slightly. “Yeah. Roman Holiday.”

**Author's Note:**

> (eventually they get together)


End file.
